Trinity Sunday, Year B

Isaiah 6: 1-8; Psalm 29; Romans 8: 12-17; John 3: 1-17

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John’s Church, in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, on Sunday, May 31, 2015.

“OF THE HOLY TRINITY”

Back when I was in seminary, and the topic of the Trinity would come up in theology class, the professor would say, “Now when Trinity Sunday rolls around, it’d be a good idea for you to appoint your assistant to preach that Sunday.”  Of course, the reason for this is simply because the nature of God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit is a very difficult matter to try to talk about, and it is a very difficult matter to try to understand.

Well, since we have no assisting priest here at St. John’s, the task of trying to unpack a little bit of the subject of the Holy Trinity falls to me, for better or for worse.

Given those realities, let’s explore the subject of God’s nature as we understand it to be One God in three Persons, that is to say, the Triune God who is referred to as Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

We might begin by looking at the word “Trinity” itself.  If we go to a concordance of the words in the Bible and look for the word “Trinity”, we will soon discover that the word never appears in Scripture.  In fact, the word was coined by one Theophilis of Antioch sometime late in the second century (most scholars say the word came into being about the year 170 AD).  Of course, the word is a combination of two Latin words, trinitas = three and unitas = one.

While we are on this part of the subject, it would be good for us to recall the origins of the saying that God is “One God in three Persons”.  The application of the word “Persons” to the three members of the Godhead is ascribed to a third century theologian, Tertullian.

Even if the word “Trinity” does not appear in Holy Scripture, we will find references to God’s nature as Father, Son and Holy Spirit in the Bible.  The clearest reference can be found at the very end of Matthew’s gospel account, as Jesus tells His disciples to go out into the world, “Baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.” (Matthew 28: 19b)

St. Paul also makes reference (in an oblique way) to God’s three-fold nature, as he closes his second letter to the Corinthian church, saying, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”[1]  (II Corinthians 13: 14)

In all honesty, at the early stages of Christian believing, during the time that the Scriptures were being written, a full understanding of God’s nature as it came to be known in the doctrine of the Trinity did not exist.  Understanding just how the Father relates to the Son, how the Son relates to the Father, how the Holy Spirit relates to the Father and to the Son, and so forth, took a lot of reflection and a lot of guidance of the fullness of God, especially through the leading of the Holy Spirit.  After all, Jesus had said that the Holy Spirit would lead the Church into all truth (John 16: 12).  The Church’s process of coming to a fuller understanding of the nature of the Trinity took the better part of four or five centuries to come into being. Along the way, there were many challenges to a correct understanding of God’s nature to be overcome.[2]

The beginning point for the Church’s reflection on God’s nature begins with the coming of Jesus Christ.  As the Church recalls what Jesus Christ said and did, they begin to understand more and more of His relationship to the Father.  They also begin to understand more and more about the nature of the Holy Spirit, and how the Holy Spirit relates to the Father and to the Son.

We might do well to recall some of the things Jesus Christ said and did as our beginning point for reflecting on God’s nature.

Jesus Christ claims oneness with the Father.  In John 10: 30, we read His statement as He said, “I and the Father are one.”

But He also claims co-eternal status with the Father, saying, “Before Abraham was, I am.”[3] (John 8: 58)

Of the nature of the Holy Spirit, Jesus Christ says that he will be sent by the Father (see John 14: 26).

We would do well to notice that much of what we have remarked on in terms of scriptural references to the relationship of the Son and the Holy Spirit to the Father finds its way into the Creeds of the Church.  Both the Apostles’ Creed (which dates from the second century) and the Nicene Creed (which dates from the fourth century) are Trinitarian in nature, affirming God’s nature as being Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  Both are arranged in three fold fashion, devoting a paragraph to each of the three persons of the Trinity.

A closer look at the Nicene Creed will reveal that the Church affirms that Jesus Christ is one with the Father, and is co-eternal with the Father.  The Creed says that the Son is “eternally begotten[4] of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.”

Now notice that the Creed affirms that the Holy Spirit comes forth from the Father and from the Son.  The statement is “We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the given of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son.”  This is an obvious reference to the statement[5] we referenced a moment ago in John’s gospel account in which Jesus Christ tells His disciples that He will ask the Father to send the Son to His disciples.

In truth, we ought to acknowledge that our human language cannot completely capture the full truth of God’s nature.  Our finite words struggle to capture at least a part of that truth.

As much as God’s nature cannot be fully known this side of heaven, yet there remains a truth about God’s nature that we can know with assurance in the meantime.

What can we affirm about God’s nature, which is three-fold?

We can affirm that God is One God, echoing the great Sh’ma of the Jewish faith, which affirms “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.”  (Coming from Deuteronomy 6: 4)

We can affirm that, as God is One God, God is also known in three Persons:  Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  The three Persons of the Holy Trinity are so closely one, so closely interconnected, that, though there is some distinction in the three Persons, yet they are so interconnected with one another that they cannot be separated.[6]

Holding the concept of God as being One God in tension with the idea that God is to be known in three Persons can be difficult.  I suspect that most of us might tend to concentrate on one Person of the Trinity at a time, forgetting that, as we do so, we might tend to forget that the other two Persons are also and always present. 

This approach to God is known as modalism.  The word derives from the idea that God acts in three different modes, much as a human being might be a parent to someone, a grandparent to others, and an aunt or uncle to still others.  In this way, a person can be one person, but acts in three different ways, or modes.  This view of God’s nature might be helpful to some extent, but it misses the fullness of God’s true nature.

So, as we close this reflection on the Trinity, perhaps the take-away for us might be that we would be more mindful of the totality of God’s working and presence as we experience or concentrate on one Person of the Trinity, recalling that the other two Persons of the Trinity are always present whenever we experience the working of one of the three.

AMEN.

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[1]   This verse is known as the Grace, and it closes the Daily Offices of Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer.

[2]   Many of these challenges took the form of wrestling with the nature of Jesus Christ as being true God and true man.  As a consequence of the struggle to understand the nature of the Son, the implications of being able to understand the nature of God as Father in relationship to the Son came to light.

[3]   John’s gospel account is peppered with many “I am” statements, of which this is one.  The statement “I am” is reminiscent of God’s appearance to Moses at the burning bush, where God identifies Himself by the words “I am”.  This claim of divinity is not lost on Jesus’ Jewish hearers, who correctly understand that He was claiming divine status.

[4]   In this context the word “begotten” has the sense of “coming forth from”, not in the sense we often read it in the Old Testament, where the word refers to being born of one’s parents.  Notice that the Creed affirms that the Son is begotten, “not made”.

[5]   John 14: 26.  But also see John 14: 16, which reads in part, “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever, even the Spirit of truth….”.

[6]   The technical theological term for this interconnectedness is perichoresis, a Greek word meaning “going around” or “envelopement”.

The Feast of Pentecost, Year B

Acts 2: 1-21; Psalm 104: 25–37; Romans 8: 22-27; John 15: 26–27; 16: 4b-15

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John’s Church, in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, on Sunday, May 24, 2015.

“FIRE AND WATER”

(Homily texts:  Acts 2: 1–21 & John 15: 26–27; 16: 4b-15)

Today, we celebrate the giving of the Holy Spirit to the Church, an event that took place on the feast of Pentecost.  So let’s talk about fire and water.

St. Luke, the author of the Book of Acts, as well as the gospel account that bears his name, tells us that the Holy Spirit’s arrival was marked by some discernible, powerful signs:  He says that the Spirit’s coming was “like the rush of a mighty wind”, and with “tongues of fire”.  (Notice that Luke seems to be grasping for words that would capture at least part of the reality of this event…he uses the words “like” and “as of” to describe the phenomenon.)

We should begin by reminding ourselves of the background of the celebration of Pentecost.

This feast is one of three major festivals in which devout Jews the world over would make their way to Jerusalem….notice the list of place names from which the pilgrims had come in today’s reading from Acts.

The name “Pentecost”[1] itself refers to the timing of this festival, which took place fifty days after another festival, that of Passover.  The Pentecost observance centered around the giving of the Law to Moses on Mt. Sinai (see Exodus 19: 1[2] and following for the account of the giving of the Torah, the Law). 

The background, then, of Pentecost is that a covenant was given by God to God’s people.

With the coming of the Holy Spirit, the new covenant which was given by Jesus Christ is now fully in place…..a new law, one of love, is given to God’s people, a people who will come very every nation on earth.

If we look back into the Exodus account, and look again at the account in Acts, we see that fire is involved in both events.  At Mt. Sinai, the Lord’s presence was known by the fire that was seen on the mountain.  At Pentecost, the Holy Spirit’s coming was seen in tongues of fire.[3]

Let’s look, then, at the power of fire.  (By the way, notice that the liturgical color for this day is a bright red,[4] denoting the power of fire.)

Fire has the power to:  move (change) things, destroy things, purify things, and to illuminate things.  Down through human history, it has been used in all of these ways.

God’s moving in human affairs does each of these four things….God’s intervention in human affairs changes things.  God’s intervention in human affairs destroys what is undesirable in us.  God’s intervention in human affairs purifies us.  God’s intervention in human affairs shines light on the path which lies before us.

Each one of us who has passed through the waters of baptism has been reborn by the Spirit, and has been given a new life in Christ.

We might say that we are children, born by water and the Spirit.[5]

Combining water with fire produces steam.

That being so, would you allow me to use a steam locomotive as the vehicle for a closer look at our Christian life, which is subject to having been born of water in baptism, and which is a life in Christ which is subject to the power of the Holy Spirit’s fire?

To begin with, we should notice that fire and water need to be in relationship to one another.  In a steam locomotive, the fire is surrounded by water, so that the heat of the fire can cause the water to come to a boil.  In baptism,  our rebirth by water brings us into relationship with the Holy Spirit.  In the baptismal rite, we say that, in baptism, we are “reborn by the Holy Spirit.”[6]

In baptism, the person who comes into a new relationship with God receives the gift of the Holy Spirit.  That gift is given so that the individual receives the ability to come to know God.

Now, once that relationship with God has been established, the power of the Spirit’s fire can begin to affect our rebirth by water.   Turning to our image of a locomotive, a boiler which is full of water, but which lacks a hot fire, can’t go anywhere.  It is the power of fire that causes things to move. 

Similarly, in our Christian life, unless we allow the Spirit’s fire, the Spirit’s power, to affect us, little will change in our Christian walk.  We should return to our passage from the Book of Acts to note that the Spirit’s coming wasn’t by invitation.  None of those present on whose heads the tongues of fire rested specifically asked the Spirit to come.  (It may well be that they were expecting God to do something spectacular, for Jesus had told them to wait in Jerusalem for the gift of the Spirit that the Father would give,[7] but they didn’t know exactly what form God’s action would take.)

We can easily conclude that, sometimes, the Spirit is gentle with us.  At other times, just as our reading from Acts tells us, the Spirit will move when and where He wills.[8]

The next thing we should notice is the purifying effect of the Spirit’s work.  This can be compared to fire’s power to destroy and remove impurities.  In a steam locomotive, as the water is boiled, whatever impurities are found in the water are separated from the water as it becomes steam.  (Here, our use of a locomotive as an example breaks down a bit, for in a locomotive, the boiler must be cleaned out periodically to remove these impurities, which often appear as scale inside the boiler.  The Holy Spirit, however, possesses completely the power to remove any and all impurities within us.)

In the Christian life, the Spirit’s power sanctifies (makes holy) God’s people.  It is in this way that the Lord says, in our reading from John this morning, that the Spirit will “lead you (us) into all truth.”

Notice how often the word “sanctify” appears in the Prayer Book.  Almost always, the word appears in connection with the Spirit’s power to make (remake) us into a holy people which reflect God’s holiness.

Fire has the power to create light, and to shine that light on the way ahead.  A locomotive depends on such light.  (In the early days, before the coming of electricity, locomotives mounted a very large kerosene-powered headlight.) 

The Spirit leads us by showing us the way ahead, shining light on the path that God would have us take.

So we have before us a celebration which has often been called the “Birthday of the Church”.  The feast of Pentecost celebrates the power given to the Church to be an agent for change in the world, to be a purifying tool in God’s hands for the redemption of the world, and to be the light of Christ, shining into and overcoming the darkness of evil.

By the Spirit’s power, we, the people of God, can do all of these things.

AMEN.

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[1]   This festival is also know by another name:  the Feast of Weeks.

[2]   The giving of the Law is also narrated in Leviticus 23: 15 – 21.

[3]   It is worth noting that we recall, liturgically, these tongues of fire, for the special hat that bishops wear, known as a mitre, is shaped to remind us of the tongues of fire.  The implication, of course, is that the Spirit’s power ought to rest on our bishops, and on all who are committed to their charge.

[4]   In liturgical usage, there are two red colors:  The bright red denotes fire and is used for celebrations in which the power of the Holy Spirit is affirmed.  There is also a dark red, whose use is appropriate for Palm Sunday and for commemorations of martyrs.

[5]   Jesus makes this connection in His discussion with Nicodemus (see John 3: 5).

[6]   The Book of Common Prayer, 1979, page 306

[7]   See Acts 1: 4 – 5.

[8]   See John 3: 8.

Easter 7, Year B (The Sunday after the Ascension)

Acts 1: 1-11; Psalm 47; Ephesians 1: 15-23; Luke 24: 44-53

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John’s Church, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, on Sunday, May 17, 2015.

“INTEGRATING OUR FOCUS ON THE 

FUTURE AND ON THE PRESENT”

(Homily texts:  Acts 1: 1–11 & Luke 24: 44-53)

Two  pastors are chatting one day, when one pastor says to the other:  “When do you think Jesus is coming back?  I’d say that all the signs are telling us that He will come back very, very soon.”  The other pastor thinks for a moment and replies:  “Well, we know that He is coming back at some time or another, but what we think Jesus wants us to be thinking about is the good works that He wants us to be doing until He comes.”

These two positions pretty well sum up some of the basic positions that Christians have taken as they live out their faith….one position focuses on the end of all things, that time when Jesus will return again, that time when His kingdom will have no end, and the other position that sets that focus aside and, instead, seeks to be about living the Christian life in everyday life, going about doing good works of service in the Lord’s name.

Unfortunately, at times some Christians have dismissed the opposing position as being a distortion of the Christian faith:  Those who can’t wait for Jesus to come again might be tempted to think that those who don’t share that concern are missing the essence of what the Christian life is all about.  On the other hand, those whose focus is on living the Christian life day in and day out might be tempted to dismiss that other position because they might perceive in that position a temptation to ignore the needs of the world.

Well, welcome to the Seventh Sunday after Easter, sometimes known as the Sunday after the Ascension.  Ascension Day always falls on a Thursday, 40 days after Easter.  It occurred this past Thursday, May 14th.  We are taking the liberty of using the Scripture readings from that day for our Eucharistic celebration this morning.

Let’s look at two of these readings more closely.

We have before us this morning the very beginning of the Book of the Acts of the Apostles, the first eleven verses, and we have the very last few verses of the Gospel According to St. Luke.  The two books, the gospel and the Book of Acts, dovetail together.  St. Luke is the author of both books.  He picks up in the beginning of Acts where he left off with the gospel account, narrating Jesus’ ascension into heaven on the Mount of Olives.

In both readings, two things are apparent:  Jesus’ ascension into heaven, and the word “witnesses”.

It seems to me that the two positions with which we began this homily arise from the ascension event itself: 

Those we are watching and waiting for Jesus’ return seem to take note of the words of the two men who appeared, standing next to those who watched Jesus’ ascension, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up into heaven?  This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”  In particular, Christians who adopt this position seem to concern themselves with these last few words:  “This Jesus, who as been taken up from you into heaven, will come again in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” 

But notice the beginning of the statement:  “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up into heaven?”  The admonition (my guess at least) seems to be that we Christians are not to concern ourselves with an all-consuming focus on the heavens.  Why might that be?  I think the reason is that Jesus has just told His disciples that they are going to be His witnesses, witnesses in Jerusalem, His witnesses in the surrounding area of Judea, His witnesses northward into Samaria, and finally, His witnesses to the very ends of the earth.

In short, the Lord is saying that we Christians have work to do, and it is a work that focuses on the world and the people in the world.  It is this charge that those Christians who focus on doing the Lord’s work in the world seem to take as their charge for living the Christian life.

We remarked at the beginning of this homily that these two basic positions seem to be somewhat antithetical to one another.  Christians on the one side of these two positions tend to dismiss the other position. 

Fortunately, this divide seems to be changing somewhat, for churches that formerly had a singular focus on Jesus’ return and the establishment of His kingdom are awaking to the requirement to be doing good works of love in Jesus’ name to alleviate suffering in the world.  Indeed, this is a very promising development.

That is not to say that an all-encompassing focus with the end of all things, and with Jesus’ return, doesn’t still exist.  It does.  Even a cursory look at religious broadcasting will reveal a wealth of preachers and evangelists who will attempt to spell out with great detail the timeline for the Lord’s return and the signs that will precede that return.[1]

What are we to make of all this?

Do we take one position or the other as we choose those things to concentrate on as we seek to live out the Christian life?

Do we look into the heavens, waiting for the sound of the trumpet?  Apparently, this was a great problem for the early Church, for St. Paul has to admonish the early Christians in Thessalonica, many of whom we sitting around idly, looking into the skies and doing little else.  Paul tells them to get busy, and to do the work they are called to do.

Or do we set about doing good works in the Lord’s name, setting aside much – if any – thought about the great, big picture of God’s eventual plans?

I suspect that we Episcopalians, most of us anyway, adopt the second position, and seek to do works of love and mercy as God’s people.

But we Episcopalians are uniquely situated to hold both of these great truths in tension with one another.

Perhaps this statement will need some explanation.

We Episcopalians are inheritors of the great Anglican tradition.  The Anglican expression of the Christian faith has been called by some “The most comprehensive expression of Christianity.”  Personally, I believe that statement to be true.

Anglicanism presents us with some wonderful gifts.  One of those gifts is the ability to hold two (or more) positions that might seem antithetical to one another in tension.

Here, we have the opportunity to apply those wonderful Anglican gifts to the matter of Jesus’ return and to the business of being His witnesses to the world.

It is a case not of “either-or”, but of “both-and”.

Applying this understanding, we can say that “Yes, Jesus will come again (as the Nicene Creed affirms), and that his kingdom will have no end (as the Creed also affirms).”  But, we can also say that God has charged us with spreading the good news by word and by deed (as our Baptismal Covenant calls us to do) in Jesus’ name.

Holding the two truths in tension allows us to understand that God has folded us into His great and final plans.  We have a role in those plans. Those plans are worked out in the day-in-and-day out struggle of everyday living. And so, God’s great plan transforms the everyday, the eternal gives meaning to the temporal.

It may be difficult to maintain our focus on the eternal and final plans of God, and on the work that God sets before us as His people, but if we are able to do so, then the work set before us can be done in view of the place that work has in God’s master plan.

AMEN.

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[1]   The late Harold Camping, about five years ago, was one of the more recent predictors of the Lord’s return.  Camping even set a definite date for the event to happen.  Of course, it didn’t happen, and Camping responded to criticisms of his prediction by saying that his calculations were wrong.  He attempted to correct those mistakes, but, of course, the second date he set also turned out to be wrong.

Easter 6, Year B

Acts 10: 44–48; Psalm 98; I John 5: 1–6; John 15: 9–17

A homily by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at St. John’s Church, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, on Sunday, May 10, 2015.

“TEACHING US TO LOVE”

(Homily texts:  Acts 10: 44–48, I John 5: 1–6 & John 15: 9–17)

In my earlier life, I used to teach voice in college settings, and in a community music school.  In my studio, a sign was posted on the wall which read:

“Never try to teach a pig to sing;

It wastes your time and annoys the pig”

I have no way of knowing which of my students – if any – ever thought that the truth of that sign applied to them.  That is to say, that perhaps I was suggesting to them that spending time trying to teach them to sing was a waste of my time.  (And, just for the sake of clarity for any of those former students who may be reading this homily on my sermon blog, let me emphatically state that not one of my students was ever a waste of time to expend energy and time on.  True, some students were more of  a challenge than others, but none were ever a waste of time.)

This sign points to a basic truth:  Pigs are incapable of learning to sing.  They can squeal, and I suspect they’re awfully good at squealing.  But they cannot learn to sing, for there is no basis of connection between a pig’s intelligence and human intelligence, an intelligence which allows us humans to make music.  Furthermore, pig’s physical makeup makes it impossible for them to be able to sing, even if their intelligence might possess the capability to allow it.

In short, a pig is not equipped to be able to sing.

Are human beings equipped to be able to love?

I ask this question because we have before us this morning a wonderfully well-themed set of readings in our epistle and gospel readings, which are coupled with a collect for this day, all of which touch on the theme of God’s love for us, our love for God, and our love for one another.

So are we humans ill-equipped to be able to love?     But, given the sad story of human history, is it possible to think that we humans lack the basic ability to love at all?  After all, history is filled with tales of very unloving deeds, which were sometimes done in the name of God.

As to the question of whether or not we humans are capable of knowing, receiving and giving love, the biblical answer would be “No, we human beings have a wonderful capacity to love.”  The basis for this conviction lies in the truth of Holy Scripture which affirms that human beings are made in the image and likeness of God.  (See Genesis 1:26.)

If we have been made in the image and likeness of God, then it follows that one of the ways in which God’s imprint has been stamped into our nature is in the capacity to know love when we encounter it, to be able to respond to love when it is offered to us, and, in turn, to offer love to God and to others.  The truth that each one of us has been created in the image and likeness of God extends to the fact that each one of us has been created by God, created out of God’s love for us.  So our very existence isn’t the product of some whim or of chance, but the fact that we live is directly due to God’s creating of each of us.

Let’s turn our attention, then, to the business of knowing love, of responding to love offered, and to the matter of being able to show love for others.

Love is often thought of as an emotion.  Certainly, emotion is a part of what love is, but – in its most basic meaning – love should be thought of as a force, a power.  Consider what a person might do, motivated by love:  The Lord tells us in this morning’s gospel passage that “No one has greater love than this, than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

On this weekend in which we remember the end of World War II in Europe (known as V-E Day, May 8th), we remember those who served in that conflict who were motivated by a love of country and a love for freedom.

So love has power, lots of power, power to do good things and to change the world.

Love draws us out of a preoccupation with ourselves.

A person in love with another is drawn out of oneself toward the loved one.  The welfare of the one who is loved, the interests, problems and challenges faced by the one who is loved becomes a focus of the one who loves.  Consider the marriage vows, by which the two persons who are marrying one another pledge to support one another in sickness and health, in richer times and in poorer times, in better times and in worse times.  And so forth.

Not only can we love another person, but we can love things in our lives, things which can bring us out of ourselves and can open us up to wider horizons.[1]    For example, a person may say, “I love serving at the food pantry each week.”  The love for this aspect of a person’s life serves to show love for others, particularly others who are in need.

If we are created with the God-given stamp of being able to love, then how is that ability awakened in us?

Here, I think the answer lies in the power of the Holy Spirit.  In our first reading this morning, we hear of the coming of the Holy Spirit upon some non-Jewish (Gentile) believers.  The coming of the Holy Spirit was made known by some of the special gifts that the Spirit can impart to us:  The power to speak in tongues (spiritual speech), and in the power to praise God.

The Holy Spirit must come to awaken God’s gift of being able to know love, to receive love, and to offer love to God and to others.  The reason for this is that the effects of sin in our lives distorts God’s image in us, making us prone to self-love and self-absorption.  But the Holy Spirit can redirect those disordered aspects of our being.

When we allow the Spirit to bring His power to bear on our minds, hearts and souls, things will change for us, for our relationship with God, and for our relationship with others.  The world itself will also be changed forever and for the good.

So come, Holy Spirit, remake and remold our hearts, that we may love you in all things and above all things.

AMEN.

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[1]   OK, I will admit that some things that we might love could work to create the opposite effect, drawing us more and more into self-absorption.  An example might the person who says, “I just love my new car!”

Easter 5, Year B

James 1: 17–21; John 16: 5–15

A sermon by Fr. Gene Tucker, given at The Cathedral Church of St. Paul the Apostle, Springfield, Illinois on Saturday, May 2, 2015, on the occasion of an historic service using the 1789 Book of Common Prayer.

Welcome to this service.  

Our aim this evening is to recreate the worship experience that might have greeted visitors to St. Paul’s as they made their way to Springfield for the funeral and burial of President Abraham Lincoln, an event that took place on May 4, 1865.  Of course, you are all aware that the 150th anniversary observance of that event is taking place in the city this weekend.

Back in that day and time 150 years ago, the Episcopal Church was using the 1789 edition of the Book of Common Prayer.  Your introductory notes provide some background for the adoption of this Prayer Book, which had a long service life, 103 years, until it was superseded by the 1892 edition.  I invite you to make your way to your left down the hallway, and then to the left again as you reach the end of the hallway to the museum room in the Canterbury House.  There, you’ll be able to see original copies of the 1789 edition, as well as other displays of the history of St. Paul’s and of this Cathedral’s connection to the Lincoln and Todd families.

As is the case this weekend for the 150th commemoration, the original funeral in 1865 would have been the cause for many people to be in Springfield.  So perhaps it’s possible that St. Paul’s greeted many, many visitors.  It’s also possible that some of those visitors arrived on the nine car funeral train, which had arrived just a few blocks from where St. Paul’s second edifice stood, at Third and Adams Streets (SE of and across the street from where the Sangamo Club stands today).

Back then, St. Paul’s bell, which now is mounted in our bell tower here at 815 South Second Street, was tolled as the funeral got underway.  St. Paul’s bell is the oldest church bell in town, dating from the 1840s (as best we can tell).  That historic bell will be tolled again tomorrow beginning at Noon as the funeral re-enactment gets underway.  Our team of ringers will be twenty High School Honor  Society members from the Springfield area.

Let’s unpack some of the worship practices as they existed at St. Paul’s in the mid-19th century.  Doing so might enhance our understanding of the worship experience of those who attended St. Paul’s in 1865.

We ought to begin by talking about the Oxford Movement, about which I have made some brief comments in the introduction to the service leaflet.  In those days, the Springfield area would have been in the Diocese of Illinois (the Diocese of Springfield came into being in 1877, when the Diocese of Illinois was split into three dioceses).  Illinois, along with Wisconsin and parts of Indiana comprised what is called the “Biretta Belt”, an area in which High Church practices were – and are – especially prevalent.

Springfield had, in those days, embraced to a large extent, the ideals of this movement.  Markers of the effects on worship could be seen in the fact that the choir was wearing robes (as our choir is doing this evening).  Furthermore, there were candles on the altar (which were there for ceremonial reasons, and not just for the practical necessity of being able to read the altar book).  Clergy were wearing Eucharistic vestments (chasubles, dalmatics, etc.), and the Holy Communion was celebrated with the presiding clergy facing away from the people (a so-called “east-facing celebration”).

Turning to the 1789 Prayer Book itself, we should notice some of the differences from our contemporary practice in the 1979 edition of the Prayer Book.  The traditional language of our 1789 rite survives in the new Prayer Book, where it is known as Rite I.  However, the order of the elements of the service have moved around a bit from 1789 until now.  If you are conversant with the practices of the Episcopal Church today, these differences will be quite apparent. 

The 1789 book shares with all of the historic Anglican Prayer Books a very penitential flavor it its liturgy.  The liturgy possesses the flavor of God’s people kneeling in penitence before the Lord, the almighty judge.  Notice the disciplinary rubrics at the very beginning of the service leaflet:  Did that phrase about a person who is an “evil and notoriously evil liver” catch your attention?  It may surprise many to know that those same disciplinary rubrics are still a part of our current Prayer Book.  However, the wording is somewhat milder than what you see today, and these disciplinary rubrics have been removed from the beginning of the service, and have been placed on page 409 (at the end of the Communion section) in the 1979 edition of the Prayer Book.

Now notice how the service itself begins:  Aside from the prelude and the opening hymn, which would have been customary elements of worship in 1865, the service itself begins in a very subdued manner, with the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer, which is followed by some collects.  In today’s usage, the service – after the prelude and entrance hymn – begins with an opening acclamation:  Today, in Eastertide, we would begin by saying  “Alleluia!  The Lord is risen.  The Lord is risen indeed.  Alleluia!”

Then, there is the reading of Scripture.  In the practice of those former times, only an Epistle reading and a Gospel reading were prescribed.  Today, of course, an Old Testament passage and a Psalm precede the reading of the Epistle and the Gospel.

Notice also that clergy read the Scripture, following the rubrics of the 1789 book.  Today, lay persons read the Old Testament and the Epistle, and often lead the Psalm as well.  In addition, clergy were to lead the Prayer for the Whole State of Christ’s Church (which is known today as the “Prayers of the People”), and they administered both of the elements at Communion time.  In contemporary practice, lay persons do many of these things.

So much for the liturgy we are experiencing today.  It is our hope that this worship experience will carry us back to some degree or another to the time of Lincoln’s untimely death.

What might have prompted those who came to St. Paul’s that first weekend in May, 1865 to attend service that Sunday?  Perhaps many in the congregation and elsewhere had known Fr. Charles Dresser, who was St. Paul’s first Rector.  It was Fr. Dresser who had officiated at Abraham Lincoln and Mary Todd’s wedding in 1842, using the 1789 Prayer Book.  You can go to our museum space and see the marriage record of that wedding.

Perhaps many remembered that Fr. Dresser had sold his house to the Lincolns two years after their marriage.  The Lincolns enlarged the house from one story to two, and it is the house that is seen and visited today in the historic area that is administered by the Park Service some few blocks east of the Cathedral.

But more than that, people in Springfield and elsewhere thought of this city as Lincoln’s home.  And they knew the qualities by which Lincoln lived his life, qualities that our Epistle reading from the Letter of St. James speaks to today:  Lincoln was a person who embodied the qualities that James addresses:  Qualities of being swift to hear, slow to speak, and slow to wrath.

The Letter of St. James concentrates on the living the Christian life in very practical, everyday terms.  James’ purpose seems to instruct us about how we live godly lives, holding our brothers and sisters in high regard.  Surely, during his lifetime, Abraham Lincoln would have had plenty of opportunity to be quick to speak against those who vilified him in the press of his day….for examples of the attacks which were leveled against him, take some time to look at some of the political cartoons of the 1860s…the rancorous nature of today’s political debates seems mild by comparison with some of the images we have from that day and time.  We have in Abraham Lincoln an exemplary example of a man who lived out the ideals we hear in James’ letter, day in and day out.  His concern for the welfare of others is one of the hallmarks of this great man.  Perhaps these qualities are among the reasons so many continue to admire him, for he was a man who possessed great integrity and who held the ideals of honesty, the welfare of others, and hard work in high regard.

AMEN.